


The Standoff

by Herbluvsdan



Category: Lupin III
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:10:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herbluvsdan/pseuds/Herbluvsdan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This predictable end was what brought them to this rooftop, of some building Lupin had robbed, guns aimed at each other with an almost deadly seriousness. This time was different, though. There was something new in the air, something crisp."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Standoff

It always ended this way.

A predicted ending, but when did they ever learn from their predictions? When did they ever think to try and change things? The world could maintain a balance, chaotic it may be, but a balance nonetheless. This predictable end was what brought them to this rooftop, of some building Lupin had robbed, guns aimed at each other with an almost deadly seriousness. This time was different, though. There was something new in the air, something crisp.

“Don’t you dare make me shoot you, Lupin.”

It was the first thing Zenigata had said since they had both gotten stuck in this standoff. His voice was shaky, and nervous, and he hated it. He was finally going to catch the man he had been pursuing for years, he should’ve been excited or happy! But he only felt scared, and endlessly nervous.

Spotlights roamed over the two men, caressing them like tense and frantic hands, unable to find a true spot to stick in. It only made things worse, and gave Lupin a real headache; not that he showed it, of course. All Lupin had to show for the heist was a smug grin, a priceless diamond in his pocket, and a gun aimed at his worst enemy.

(But in a way, was he really an enemy? What kind of enemy comes to your funeral and sobs? What kind of enemy saves your life when needed? What kind of enemy held your hand and told you about how his profession and yours would end together, and that he was okay with that? What kind of enemy could be so caring? It was these questions that would keep Lupin up at night as he listened to Jigen snoring.)

And Zenigata, he had a black eye and a torn suit jacket; cheap as it may be, still a loss for him (because only the successful police officers get paid comfortably, or at least that’s what his ex-wife said). His hand did not shake, his fingers did not itch; he was not eager, nor was he bored. He was in a state of exhausted excitement, uncomfortable and twitchy, waiting for wait Lupin would do next. After all, Lupin was his worst enemy.

(But then, what kind of an enemy was the man who bought you lunch when he noticed how starved you looked? What kind of enemy bought you clothes when he saw how raggedy the ends of your suit pants were? What kind of enemy squeezed your hand as you held his, and told you how he didn’t much mind to retire with you? What kind of enemy was so thoughtful? It was these questions that kept Zenigata tossing and turning in bed, unsure of what to think about this man, who was so hot and cold.)

Zenigata was close enough to throw a pair of handcuffs, or even put them on him if he took a few steps, but he knew the thief could escape all too easily. He could shoot, maybe in the knee, or the leg, somewhere to incapacitate him, but he knew (even if he couldn’t see them; again, predictable) Jigen was somewhere not too far off with a rifle ready to do the same, and Goemon was probably around to help Lupin escape. He had thought on it thousands of times at night, how he could alter fate and make it so that he could catch Lupin. But Lupin was slippery, and Zenigata was clumsy.

Lupin kept steady, and took one step forward. Zenigata didn’t relent. He wasn’t afraid of Lupin. Lupin took one more step forward, and every muscle in Zenigata’s body tensed.

“I said, don’t make me shoot you.” was what he growled.  
“What is that idiot thinking? Pops has a gun!” was what Jigen muttered, a mile or so away in his nest.  
“He’ll jeopardize this entire operation!” was what Goemon said through gritted teeth and he hovered in his helicopter, not too far from the scene.

Lupin took one more step, one last time, and knew Zenigata would never build up the courage to shoot. He knew the risks. He knew for certain. If Lupin was anything, he was predictable. 

Or, at least, that’s what Zenigata thought.

What he wasn’t expecting, was to hear the click of the gun against his forehead. Or for his own gun to slowly be removed from his hand. Lupin’s mouth curled at the edges. 

“Come with me,” he whispered, with no real volition behind the threat except a loaded gun and a trigger he would never pull.

“What if I say no?” Zenigata asked. He wasn’t scared. Or, at least, that’s what he would say. To be truthful, he was anxious. Lupin was steady, and tranquil.

Lupin didn’t say anything in response. He looked Zenigata deep in his eyes, and behind his own was flicker of something like excitement. In one swift motion, he had dropped his gun and swept Zenigata off his feet; almost literally, but if Lupin was that strong, he could work alone. He dipped Zenigata, who gasped in surprise, but his gasp was soon cut off by the connection of a kiss. 

Long and passionate and overdone, that’s how it felt to both of them. Zenigata was too exhilarated to think; Lupin could only think about how he wanted everyone and no one to see at the same time. On one hand, it was grandeur, it was unexpected, it was so perfectly Lupin that it satisfied him to his very core. But on the other, it was intimate, private, unsuited for the eyes of others who just wouldn’t understand it.

When they had finally broken their embrace, Zenigata had been dropped as Lupin ran, followed by a hail of bullets. Zenigata reached one hand out for him, still burning from their last contact, still longing for more. He wasn’t worried, no; he knew that no matter what, Lupin would escape, and he would survive yet again. The only part of the scene that twisted his stomach was the thought that he wouldn’t see him again until his next heist. He dropped his hand as he watched Lupin leap from the rooftop to one adjacent to that.  
It wasn’t until he was in the helicopter with Jigen and Goemon and far enough away from the scene when Jigen piped up, “That was pretty stupid.”

“What was?” Lupin asked, arching an eyebrow.  
“You know what.” A man of few words, but Lupin knew he was right. It was stupid. But so was Lupin. It was just how he wanted it.  
“Yes, Lupin. I agree with Jigen.” Goemon said.  
Lupin leaned back in his seat and sighed.  
“I wonder what Fujiko’s gonna think about that.” was the last thing Jigen said for the rest of the evening.

Lupin knew what she would think, and he didn’t want to think about it. He’d deal with that when he got to it. All he wanted to think about now was how Zenigata had tasted, how he shook and shuddered, how he reciprocated hesitantly, but caught the pace quickly. He felt slight guilt at leaving the inspector without so much as a word, especially since he dropped him, but knew that Zenigata would forgive him. When Lupin got home, and finally got some sleep, it was the first time in a long time that he didn’t stay awake the whole time.

As for Zenigata, he went home, tended to his wounds, and sat in bed. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t toss and turn. For the first time in a long time, he got a good night’s sleep, even though his mind was racing with anticipation for his next meeting with his worst enemy.


End file.
